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Saturday, August 30, 2008

all over blogland this weekend, you'll see a lot of ranting, venting, bitching, etc. her bad mother graciously organized (per usual) a betchfest, where people who didn't feel they could say certain things on their blogs, are posting those things on other blogs. i donated my blog as a safe place for someone to post what they felt they couldn't post on their blog. this is that post:

As It Turns Out, People Are Dicks

My son has such a friendly, happy-go-lucky disposition, even when he is in the midst of a toddler semi-meltdown, that sometimes I think he must have figured out a way to mainline sunshine. His happiness is so precious, and so foreign to me, in fact, that I feel like I need to treat it with special care--like, wrap it in bubble wrap and surround it with plastic peanuts, and stow it away somewhere, so I don't step on it and smash it to pieces when I'm looking for the pet hair attachment to the vacuum cleaner.

Just being around him--especially on a day like today, where he is all smiles and lovey doveys for Mommy--makes me a happier person, makes me want to believe, like he does, that people aren't evil cesspools or bottomless pits of need. In fact, if we have a really good day, like when we go to My Gym or something, and he plays on the slide, I catch myself starting to assume that people will do the right thing, or the nice thing, or at the very least the basically CIVIL thing, when the need arises.

But then something will happen and I will come crashing back to earth, disappointed with myself and everyone else, unsure of where to place the blame, and wanting (even if just a little bit) to come down with some kind of fatal illness so I don't have to deal with the bullshit anymore.

So I am writing this here, rather than screaming it, because as much as I believe it to be true, I would like for my son to at least have a shot at growing up and not believing and/or knowing that

PEOPLE ARE DICKS.

Clearly I have had some bad people experiences lately. Some are of the run-of-the-mill, road rage, cutting in line, pissing in your cheerios variety, and some are peculiar, head-scratching moments of dickdom that have finally built up, boiled over and now--well, sorry, but you're all going to have to feel the wrath.

I don't like most people. I am not a nice person. And if you have met me, and you are under the mistaken impression that I am a nice person, it is likely that this is because I don't say what is going on in my head most of the time. I am very good at hiding my emotions. Yes, they pass this skill out to WASPs--along with highball glasses, madras shorts, and an affected forgetfulness of numbers of houses owned--at birth. One time my stepbrother said something to the effect of "Anna is really not so bad." My mother told him that he thought this because I hadn't "shown [my] teeth yet." That seems an apt description.

Last week we started running the New York Times Crossword on my site. Despite what some people in the interwebs think, I am not enough of a moron to think I could take property from the Paper of Record without their permission. But, for the sake of argument, let's say I were that idiotic--would I also have the audacity to go to other sites and promote the fruits of my thievery--you know, to increase the chances of getting caught? Apparently not one, not two, but more like ten to fifteen people thought that I might do just this thing, and felt it was their duty to do/say something about it.

One of these valiant, high-minded blowhards readers even took it upon themselves to spam half the Times' email list, as well as the publisher of the Times' crossword applet that we use, alerting them to my "feeble" attempt at stealing their intellectual property. Since I don't have clearance to discuss the finer points of this particular incident, I will just have to say that the end result was in my favor. Which is not a surprise, since I OF COURSE did much research on using the Times' crossword on my site, and went to great lengths to procure the rights to do so.

But this did not change the fact that when I got the email from this asshole, I was headed into the gym with my son, checking mail on my crackberry while we waited for the gym daycare to open, and totally not emotionally ready for such an attack. Since I started this blog, I have been expecting (hoping for?) some kind of character assasination/critique of parenting/indictment of superficiality and/or spending habits from readers. Not that I would relish these kinds of attacks either, but I felt confident that they WOULD come at some point. But this particular sucker punch came out of left field, and was delivered by a frustrated graduate of a certain prestigious university who pimps out his fifteen year old book about a weeny whiny pseudointellectual pseudotopic (that is not even politically relevant any more due to advances in science and technology) on a fifth rate html site that he couldn't even design himself. Add that to the fact that he works a Dilbertesqe day job where it is likely he has to regularly kiss the asses of more talented and successful people ad nauseum, and you have a Central Casting character sketch for the movie adaptation of The Sociopath Next Door.

So, yeah, sucks to be him, but leave me out of it, dude.

Then, like we've been talking about late, I'm on Twitter and have a lot of reservations about it. But I have been working very hard on this blog, and though I know it is unreasonable to expect overnight meteoric success, I feel like there should be some kind of expectation of collegial behavior among bloggers, no? I read a lot of blogs. A LOT. And truth be told, many of them I don't even like, I just read them because I know they are popular, and I am not so arrogant as to think there aren't things I can learn from someone who is successful. If this person is successful at something and I am puzzled as to why, then IMO it is all the more important that I try to learn from them. So I read, and read, and comment, and comment, and participate as much as I can, when I have something to offer.

Now, I don't expect everyone to come to my blog because I went to theirs. Nor do I expect that people will come to my blog, like it, want to stay. Sometimes they will, sometimes not. That's life.But if I send someone a direct message with something directly pertinent to something they have written about--or tweeted about--something they have directly asked for help with, or something they specifically take an interest in--say, something they write a weekly column about, then I think it is not unreasonable to expect some kind of acknowledgement of my message. Just something like, "hey, really, thanks." Or even, "Oh?" I do not expect friendship. I do not expect them to even be interested in what I have to say. But SOME VERSION OF PUBLIC POLITENESS, DON'T YOU THINK--AN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF COMMUNICATION, OR SOMETHING, IS NOT TOO MUCH TO ASK. For God's sake.

People like to say that the blogosphere is like high school. Uh-uh. The blogosphere is more like a bunch of people who were loser dorks in high school, who get spilkies at the prospect of finally being the ones in power. They love nothing more than to abuse power the same way that they had power abused on them. So a lot of them are asshole dicks without any sense of common courtesy. Like, if people marginalized you at one point, you jump at the chance to do it someone else. Wow. Super grown up.

I don't have a point with this post. Just feel like ranting so that I don't take it out on my family. I hope to be back to my usual, charming, morbidly depressed self soon.

this post was brought to you in conjuction with her bitching bad mother and betchfest '08! please note that jennster DID NOT write the above post. hear me fuckers? i did not write this. thanks!

Thursday, August 28, 2008

anyway.. i feel this way each year as my birthday creeps closer and closer. i hate getting older. i hate the number i become year after year. so much so, that it would truly kick ass if i forgot how old i was. seriously. could you imagine asking me how old i am and if my response was something like, "well.. i think i'm thirty something.. but i suppose i could still be twenty something, or maybe by now i'm forty something? hell, i truly don't know!" i think that would be awesome!

it's just that i don't want my age to define me. i don't want it to be WHAT i am. i guess it's a part of me, but why? does it have to be? i truly don't think so. i think all age does is mentally fuck with you. imply you shouldn't be doing certain things.. or shouldn't wear certain clothes.. or talk a certain way... because of how old you are. and i don't want to live like that. i don't want it to matter. i don't want to care. i just want to live my life and live it how i think is best- and the most fun. and i think that if you're always thinking about how old you are, you limit yourself. or you tell yourself things aren't possible because of your age. or you start getting down on yourself because you think you should be married now, or own a house by now, or be a huge success in business by now, etc. see what age does?? it's no good. it's like this everpresent timeline that people tend to measure themselves against.

so i'm making a pact to myself. out loud and in this blog. that i won't let me life be ruled by my age (not that i let it rule me now, just saying.. you know, out loud). that it's okay if i want to act like a 16 year old and scream my head off at a new kids on the block concert, or some shit like that. it's perfectly fine if i want to wear clothes from the juniors department (you know, as long as they look good). if i want to have a kid when i'm 40, i'll have a kid when i'm 40 (goddess willing). my pact is just to have fun in everything i do. live life according to how i want to live it, not how some book tells me i should. 40 things to do before you're 40- suck it.

does your age define you? do you think that it holds you back in some ways, or tends to make you feel "bad" for not having accomplished certain things?

ps- i'm not 40. pss- i promise i'm not turning 40. psss- i mean, i can't remember how old i am anyway, so ...

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

i love yogurt. my son loves yogurt. my husband however, not so much. so it's a good thing that the yoplait for kids wasn't for him. hmph. this wasn't going to be hard. go to the store. grab some kids yoplait yogurt. head home. force feed it to your kid. ask him annoying questions that make him want to hurt you. blog about it.

but what are you supposed to say when you love the yogurt?!?! what are you supposed to say when you're already a fan of the yogurt? are you just supposed to remind everyone how fun and yummy the yogurt is? okay. hey everyone, yoplait for kids yogurt (trix especially) is super fun and yummy!!!! blake loves it! he eats one every morning for breakfast, and also at night when he wants a snack. i will admit that blake did say that he thinks he might be getting too old for the yogurt. he thinks the trix is a little too sweet. yeah, i know- totally not a normal kid, right? but it's cute that he associates the sweetness with youngness. ha!

bottom line is we're a big fan of yoplait yogurt for kids. blake thinks it's yummy. blake likes to eat it. i like to buy it (especially when it's on sale). and now you can too- click here for a coupon for $1.50 off your next yoplait kids purchase!

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

sweet.the best part? i had no idea i was even on this ginormous list full of hot bitches, until i read moosh's blog asking people to go vote for her (i understand if you vote for her, hell, i might vote for her.. or ali martell.. or lori.. or the bloggess- duuuude, these are tough choices)... anyway, i was scrolling down her list and then there was MY name! what the hell?!?! don't people normally get notified if they're on a hot list? i mean, especially if they want votes? (because i want votes.. IT'S FOR A CALENDAR!!!! like i would be in a calendar!!! and i don't know about you but i think that's super fun and i would so totally love to be like- hi i'm jennster and i've been in a calendar bitches! i'm miss september. no it's not a playboy calendar, it's a blogger calendar. don't ask me to explain what a blogger calendar is. just bown down to the greatness that is miss hot blogger september!! and oh yeah, suck it!) so my pathetic ass has like 14 votes. which i guess is better than none, but seriously people? 14 votes is kind of sad and i'm sitting here thinking if i can only get 14 votes, than maybe i shouldn't even be allowed on a hot list... you know? cause 14 is pretty sucky. we must change this. my ass could inspire world peace if i win this! you never know. stranger things have happened.

so help vote me to hotness!!!! and tell your friends! :)

ps- i'm super far down on the list... so yeah, keep scrolling. and THANKS!!

pss- yes, i know it would be so much easier to vote for me if i was at the top like say.. a cowboy's wife.. but i'm not.. so shutup and just search for me, k?

psss- that wasn't very nice huh? if i'm mean you'll vote for someone else, like my arch nemesis, won't you? i'll probably deserve it too. do you think my arch nemesis knows she's my arch nemesis? can she only be my arch nemesis if she's aware that she is? or can i have an undercover archie? ponder.

pssss- i'm sorry for being so mean. thanks for the vote. my ass (and world peace) thank you

Monday, August 25, 2008

i am the girl who will be genuinely nice to you when i first meet you. if you're someone important to someone important to me- i will go out of my way to initiate conversation... attempt to befriend you, etc. there's no reason why i can't or shouldn't be pleasant upon the first meeting with someone, right?

but when i do go out of my way to be overly nice and that person isn't nice back.. i get fucking pissed off. usually, it's other girls who act this way. i can think of 3 very specific occassions where i went overly out of my way to be nice to random chicks, to have all of them be bitches back to me in their own special way. and i was so livid. because truly, i don't have to fucking be nice to anyone. especially other females who i owe nothing too. you know? i feel like if i'm nice to you, the least you can do is attempt to be nice back. you can recognize that i don't have to be nice to you. i don't have to be friendly. but i am- so at least attempt to have some respect. and when they don't. i'm done with them.

no joke.

if i have gone out of my way to be nice, and you shit all over that... you can pretty much assume that i won't be nice to you in the future (if i even acknowledge your existance that is). unless you go out of your way to be nice to me at a later event, or apologize- then we can probably work it out. maybe it was just a bad day. something. i understand that kind of stuff. but otherwise, i get so mad when i'm nice and they're not.

am i the only one who gets like this? do you ever feel like that person should be nicer than nice to you, because you don't have to be nice to them??? they're lucky you're being so friendly when in reality, maybe they're the ones who should be going out of their way to be nice to you?

or maybe i'm just a fucking crazy person? that is definitely always an option.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

picture this.. i'm in suckbucks this morning ordering my usual grande chai tea latte (no water and extra foam in case you bitches ever want to bring me one, thanks)... i see the chick making the drink pour 2 shots of something into a grande cup. i assume it's not mine and wait for her to call my name. she finally does and i walk towards sam (my jeep) with my drink in hand. i take a sip of my supposed chai tea and almost die. that bitch put those 2 shots of coffee suckiness in my chai. so it was like a chai tea, coffee shot, mess. i almost spit it out everywhere. instead, i swallowed (such a good girl) and then wanted to puke. i loathe coffee. and shots of whatever the hell you people order in your coffee.

i go back into the store and tell her that it's not chai, but something horrid. she asks me if i'm sure. am i sure?? did she just seriously ask me if i'm sure. whatever. i played pleasant and told her of course i was sure. i know when something isn't chai.... and that's not it.

then the chick proceeds to spew this bit of genuis at me..."wow. i wonder what this all means for you? i mean, maybe you're not supposed to have your drink today. maybe it got messed up for a reason. i wonder what it means."

are you fucking kidding me? YOU WONDER WHAT IT MEANS?!?!! maybe i'm not supposed to have my chai today??? maybe you shouldn't be making drinks today. maybe you're the one who fucked up the drink and all i did was stand here. why is it a message for ME?!?!! project much? displace repsonsibility much?!?! why wasn't she asking herself what the hell it meant for her? how the hell did this become all my fault and a freaking sign from the latte gods for me?!?!? help me out people.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

*cue scary music cause i'm sure somewhere this is some travesty to all mankind (or twatter) or something*

anyway.. i don't own one. yet... maybe.. we'll see.

i mean i'm kind of torn between wanting a laptop, or a beach cruiser. shut up. i'm not kidding. i totally want a bike. my niece has this kick ass 7 speed beach cruiser. i want one too. i don't know where or when i'll have the time to ride it, but that is totally not the point! i think my fat ass would get better results on a bike rather then under a laptop. and i totally want to ride around- especially now since i found this path that starts close to our house and goes about 2.5 whole miles to a park. ooh, 2.5 miles mommy. puss. but see, i'm straying. i blame you. don't get all logical with me and tell me you have nothing to do with this when you know damn well it's all your fault.

*ahem*

so, i need your help. i know nothing (literally) about tops of laps. and i know for a fact that all you bitches do. i saw you guys at blogher. aka as lap-top-her (that sounds dirty. let's have one of those next year). straying again. what is with you people?

so talk to me here folks. IF i do get one, it will be my only computer. i will store brazillions and brazillions of pictures on it. lots of picture editing. lots of crap. tell me what i need. what is best. what laptop do you have? would you buy it again? what do you love about it? what would you change?

fuck- just tell me what to buy. k? that'll just probably work best. thanks. the end.

Monday, August 18, 2008

but heidi... aka, dipshit.... what the hell has she done to her face? between the funky looking chin, the nose job, the collagen or whatever is in her top lip (and probably her teeth too, but i can't tell)- her face freaks me out. i almost have to close my eyes, or turn away everytime she comes onto my 56 inch tv screen (it's the one time you'll hear me thanking the goddess that mtv does not come in hi def). i'm not kidding. it's not one of those face jobs where it's so bad you can't turn away and stare in amazement. it's one where i'm almost fucking horrified to look at her. she is just a couple plastic surgeries away from looking like the cat lady. seriously. i can see it now.

someone needs to stop her. if i run into her in LA tomorrow, i'll tell her myself. could you imagine? "dude, you have got to stop messing with your face man. it's freaking me out. i mean, scaring spencer is one thing. i'd want to scare him the hell out of my life too- but everyone else? why do we have to suffer? i'm just trying to watch the damn show, but everytime you come on the screen i want to throw something at it. and that just aint right. cause dude, my tv is like super awesome and it doesn't deserve to have shit thrown at it. but you on the other hand... "

so there you have it. my thoughts from the hills season 4 premiere tonight. nothing but heidi's jacked up face. i'm sure this is what nightmares are made of.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

apparently my son is not only a baseball player and a wannabe x-gamer.. he's also a future competitor in the foul mouth olympics (for which i hold 3 gold medals, fuck you very much).

we were out riding our bikes when blake tried to go down this crazy rocky, terrain, hill thing. i sat there watching, knowing the whole time the way mom's do, that this was going to get ugly. i knew he was going to crash. just knew it. but i didn't know that when he would finally crash, and roll down the hill with his bike on top of him, that he would scream "fuck" about 5 times at the top of his lungs.

so i'm running down this hill to get to him. my baby. my only child who is screaming "mommy!!!" and "i can't breath" in between the "fuuuuucks" and i don't know whether to hold him or beat the living shit out of him. and can i possibly beat him while hugging him, or would that send mixed messages?

so i run down there and i ask him "what are you saying???" and he goes, "fuck." and omg, i lost my shit. simply lost it. i told him how he can in no way ever say that word. if that's the first word that comes to his mind when he gets hurt, then he needs to find another word. he obviously needs to expand his vocabulary. i also told him that when he's an adult, he can say that word until it starts growing out of his ears, i don't care, but right now... at TEN YEARS OLD.. it is absolutely not appropriate or okay for him to speak like that. through his tears he agreed.

i know you might be sitting there thinking he learned it from me cause i'm probably one of the most foul mouthed people you know (or read), but he didn't. i don't cuss around blake. stop laughing, it's true. i am a fucking angel when that kid is around and the god dammed devil when he's not. that's how parenting works.

it also works like this. he's currently in his room reading. because he's grounded. until school starts on wednesday. that's right. wednesday.

know what else? he didn't put up a fight. he even suggested longer. little shit.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

ever since "the post" happened, i haven't stopped thinking about it. if even just slightly. i don't want to give certain people the misconception that it has consumed me because that is not the case. i think i just feel like things were left very open ended and i never got to have a say. with his response and then the numerous emails that have followed, and are still rolling in (not from him), i haven't been able to let this situation go. since i couldn't respond to the comment on his blog, i figured i'd respond to it on mine. i feel that i have every right to post what i would have there, here. it's not about having the last word.. it's about having the chance to have A word. i'm also doing it publicly instead of emailing him directly because the initial comments and response were both public to begin with. i figured i'd keep them that way. (there is another reason but i will get into that at another time) this what i would have said:

now i totally get what you're saying. i think if you would have worded it like that to begin with in your original post, i would have never gotten defensive in the first place. i understand what you're trying to say and it makes sense to me. i guess your original wording just made me get defensive because i read it very arrogantly. even if that wasn't your intention, it's how it read to me.... and i know i wasn't the only one.

anyway, your reponse back to me would have been very nice and civilized and totally awesome had you not added your ps in there. i really don't get what was passive, or aggressive in my comment? i think you're trying to read into something that isn't there. i said what i meant and i thought i said it pretty plainly. there wasn't any hidden meaning or backhanded bullshit like you're insinuating. i also don't appreciate the character assumption. i'm not passive aggressive at all, and your ps is just further proof that neither you, or your wife, know anything about me.

Friday, August 15, 2008

the boys are leaving today to go to the ranch. they're coming back tomorrow afternoon, but still... that means i get one whole night of bliss!!!

i love the boys, but i also love them when they're gone. i don't have to share the tv. i don't have to watch shit i don't want to watch. i can stay up late. i can do whatever i want and i don't have to run it by anyone, or have anyone affected by it. i love being alone. tonight i'm going to watch stupid movies that no one would want to watch with me anyway. and i'm going to LIKE them. and i'm going to get to watch them UNINTERUPPTED!!!!! there's nothing like attempting to watch a movie and having to fucking pause the thing every 10 minutes because someone in the fucking house needs something from you. argh.

now while i love all of this. i'm also a total freak. i get completely spooked out by every.single.sound when i'm in the house alone. normally i tell myself shit like "oh that's just blake" even when it so obviously is not him. but still, he's IN the house so my mind totally buys it. so when he's not there and i can't pawn it off on being him.... i freak out. so know what i do? i fucking stay awake until it's almost light out. seriously. i am that person. once the sun starts to rise, time for sleepy!

well! we don't have a dog living with us yet so it's not like it can protect me! i promise.. once we have dogs, i'll sleep when it's dark cause they'll either eat the intruders, or lick them to death!

Thursday, August 14, 2008

ha! i can't type the dirty word i want to use here in a product review!!!! it wouldn't be right. right? i mean, even though hanes DOES really market itself towards that word. what? it's totally true and you know it! :)

hanes boxers. hanes briefs.hanes socks. when i first signed up to review hanes, per usual, i was super excited! i mean, we're pretty much a hanes family. well, at least the guys are. they are all about hanes under their shorts and on their feet. what i didn't stop to think about was the fact that i would have to actually grill my 10 year old son with questions about how the product was feeling, moving, holding his junk, etc. this was going to be tough.

me: blake, put on these boxers and model them for me.blake: what?? what do you mean?me: dude. just do it. put em on and then walk around and let me see if they bunch out and stuff like other boxers do.blake: *groans* fine.

blake proceeds to model his cute bubble butt around the room. no bunching at the fly. YAY! i hate when the boxers do that huge gap at the fly. i mean, i always think that one day, his junk is just gonna fall right through that hole! seriously! i cannot be the first person to think that (just probably the first mom to actually write about it when talking about her son). so. awesome. they don't fly. hence the "no gap fly" hanes talks about. sweet!

next up, the briefs. blake is going through a pure hatred stage for briefs. he absolutely refuses to wear them. BUT, when he plays baseball, we make him. he is the catcher, so he has to wear something that will actually hold a cup in place. boxers aren't cutting it (although boxer briefs might work).

me: okay. now you have to put on the briefs.blake: what?! why? seriously mom.me: omg, just do it! please! you know i have to write about this on my blog and i want to make sure they're comfortable and don't ride up and stuff.blake: of course they're not comfortable. i hate these kind.me: oh.my.gosh. just put them on.blake: *more groaning and complaining* fine. they're on. can i take them off now?me: no! pretend you're playing catcher. seriously. dude, get in catching position and tell me if they're comfortable.blake: they're comfortable.me: are you lying?blake: no! they really are comfortable.me: good!!! now do they ride up?blake: what the heck does that mean?me: are they riding up your butt, so you have to pick them out?blake: mom! no, they aren't!me: awesome!!!this really is awesome because we have to get blake to wear briefs for baseball, and up until now it's been a struggle everytime. i don't think it will be a problem from here on out! thanks hanes. seriously. no really. thank you. (his nuts thank you too).

we'll continue to be a hanes family for sure. there wasn't much doubt, but with hanes new comfort fit promise- which means that if they aren't comfortable YOU GET YOUR MONEY BACK, it's even more of a sure thing! (although they totally made that promise because they know you'll think their products are comfortable and you won't want your money back and so well, they still win)

the only problem i had with these products at all, was the fact that boyfriend whined and wanted to know why they only sent ones for blake. where were hanes stuff for him??? at the store silly. go buy some.

this review was brought to you in conjunction with the totally awesome hanes and the super rockstarish parent blogger network.please post any questions in the comments section and i'll be sure to answer! thanks!

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

by far the best, most awesome part of my entire trip to la this time was the conversation i got to have with my16 year old (totally hot) nephew for 4+ hours. i have NEVER gotten to have a conversation with him like that before. i think partly because it's rarely ever just him and i alone together. and also because i don't necessarily think he's ever really been that open and talkative before now (at least not with me). i kept thinking in my head the whole time "omg, don't stoptalking... just keep talking.. don't tell me you're tired and want to go bed... cause this is awesome.." and it was. he is such a self aware, kick ass person. i loved the fact that he would ask me for my opinion on things. not too many things, but enough that it made me feel like my opinion mattered to him. he cared what i would do in a situation. what i would think. i don't know. it made me cry the next day just attempting to talk about it. because i've never had that with him. i get to have kick ass conversations with my niece whenever we want (which i love and wouldn't trade for the world), but this was different. i don't know, it just rocked. i'm so appreciative to have had that talk with him. of course now i just want more. such a typical woman.

by far the absolute worst moment of the entire trip was attempting to console my son, who started crying uncontrollably the moment his cousins said goodbye to him and we got in our car. he couldn't stop. he was saying things like "mom, you can't do this to me. don't make me leave. i just want to stay. please mom, don't do this." as if i was forcing him to give his arms to a shark for fun or something. this went on for two and a half hours. him begging me to stay. asking why we had to leave. pleading with me every way possible to stay. the words that came out of his mouth i've never heard before. he was overly dramatic (oscar contender for sure) but it was fucking heartbreaking. because here i was, sad in my own right to be leaving the area i love and the family i miss so much, but i had to remain composed. if i let even one tear fall from my eye, it would have been all over. we both would have been absolute messes (not the drink). so i fought back my own sadness and just hugged my son. hugged him as he sat in the window seat of the plane, with his hand on the window, shaking his head no.. begging the plane not to leave. begging the plane to leave him here. "please don't go. please don't. just leave me here. i just want to stay here. pleeeease." so of course i start thinking that the plane is going to crash or blow up and we're all going to die because my son begged the plane to leave him here. i hate that he's learning the lesson of how hard it is to leave the people you love behind when all you want to do is stay.

Monday, August 11, 2008

my fam and i went to the beach yesterday (oh glorious southern california beaches, how i miss you more than i could ever express with stupid words). i was standing on my sisters car trying to get the surfboards down when blake slammed the passenger door shut. no problem right? except that my hand was in there.

it's weird what your mind thinks when things like this happen. and how quickly. it hurt, but it wasn't really painful. i was fully aware that my fingers were in the door, that i couldn't move, and that my rings were being crushed. i knew that the handle to the door was way too far away and there was no way i could contort my body into reaching it.

so i yelled. "BLAAAAAAKE!!! oh my god, open the door please. NOW!!!!!" he freaked a little, ran back to the car and opened the door. i pulled my hand out and my fingers were already swelling. i knew i'd better get my wedding rings off before i couldn't ever get them off. those rings. they saved my fingers from getting broke. at least one finger. my hand is totally fine. my rings are totally fine. i think that i might have superpowers. i mean, who gets their hand smashed in a car door and walks away unscathed?

PEOPLE WITH SUPERPOWERS DO!!!!!!! that's right. later tonight, i'm going to try flying (thanks bloggess). and tomorrow, i'll probably see if i can scale tall buildings and shit.

Saturday, August 09, 2008

i am no longer shellshocked at the pure mean-ness of the email sent to me. i've kind of moved into the anger stage. i'm sure by later today i'll be sad, or some shit. who knows. phases of emotions are weird... especially when you blog them during each phase you're in.

i guess people's true character comes out when you least expect it. or maybe it comes out when they think no one will see it.. or no one is watching. i'm sure this post will be used as another example of how awful and untrustworthy i am. but you know what? FUCK THAT NOISE. i'm not hearing it.

anyway, i'm in LA as i write this and i couldn't be happier to be in the place i love. can't wait to go to the beach.. get a freaking tan.. and hang out with my family. didn't want to leave you all hanging for days on end thinking i was in some messed up funk. i'm good. or at least i'm getting there!!!!! :)

Friday, August 08, 2008

i am literally shocked, stunned and hurt to the point of being at a loss for words (almost). how can virtually one email make you feel so small? how can that same email make you question so many things you thought you loved about blogging?

look, i'm sure we all talk about eachother behind eachother's backs. things you wouldn't necessarily say to someone's face, but would confide in someone you considered a friend. i don't expect us to all get along. i don't expect us to all like eachother. and i'm sure there are those of you reading this now who have said some not so nice things about me behind my back. i honestly don't care.

but what i do care about is when i hear certain assumptions on my character. i do care if people are talking about the "fact" that i can't be trusted and warning one another about me. are you fucking kidding me? do you even know me? like honest to goodness, know anything about the kind of person i am? if you only know me from my blog, then no- you don't. if you've met me once or twice, you still don't. you might have a small glance into part of my personality, but you know nothing about my true character or who i am far past all the silliness, goofiness and downright stupidness i portray.

i don't know what i've ever done to give off the impression that i'm untrustworthy. i pretty much call them the way i see them. i post what i feel (at the time). i put it all out there. sometimes i think my posts are too harsh, but i've always felt good about being honest with how i'm feeling. and right now i'm numb inside. but not numb to the point of not being able to feel it. i can feel the numbness. and i don't like it.

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

i drive to work every morning and it's during that alone time (pretty much the only alone time i have throughout the entire day) that my head starts to swirl with all sorts of thoughts. i think about things i'd like to blog about... i remember certain times, have lots of conversations with myself in my head.. etc. i've been meaning to write about this, but it's like once my alone time is over, so are all my thoughts. at least in any cohesive manner.

there are plenty of times when i feel like i'm not so nice to my husband. and i wonder why he puts up with me? why he continues to be nice to me when i'm not so nice to him. and then i also think that my god, if he said to me some of the things i say to him, i'd be really hurt, or mad, or upset, or something. and then i ask myself why i treat him that way? and i don't have an answer. i obviously don't want to intentionally hurt him. i don't want to be mean to him. i don't get joy from being a bitch. sometimes i think just being a bitch comes so easily to me it's hard to stop it. i know that's not really an excuse. i just don't have the answers. maybe i'm stressed out at work? maybe i'm upset that i feel like i have a lot of pressure when it comes to things financial in our household? maybe i'm more upset about other things than i realize? maybe everything with my dad affects me more than i choose to acknowledge? i truly don't know. but i don't like it when i'm mean. at least when i'm mean for no reason (because being mean for a reason is totally acceptable, ha). i wouldn't want to be treated that way. you know? so i've got to work on that. stop being mean just to be mean. check. stop being a bitch when he doesn't deserve it. check. (and please don't think i'm mean all the time and oh poor boyfriend.. it's not that. i just feel like i'm meaner than necessary and i truly, don't mean to be.. i'm just aware of it and i want it to stop.)

i think it's so easy to get caught up in your day to day activities that you stop appreciating what you have. who you have. i mean, i love my husband. but there are days, not when i forget that (i never forget that), but that i just don't stop to think about it. no, that's not it at all. it's that i don't stop to tell him just howmuch i truly love him. i take it for granted. i take him for granted. like he doesn't need to hear how much i love him. like he should just know. and that's not right.

because i remember the times when him and i were seperated by distance. when we dated and he was in northern california and i was in southern. i remember when all we had was phone calls and the occasional visit that never last long enough and never came again soon enough.

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

i feel like a lot of women out there are on anti-depressants. or some other kind of medication. it seems to bond a lot of people when you blog about it, and how the relation can make you feel less alone (which is one of the many beautiful things about blogging and reading blogs).

but... i can't relate. *knocks on wood* and so while i can very strongly feel for you and what you're going through, i can truly only sit here and imagine what it must be like. i can empathize with you. i can feel pain for you. and i can hope with you that it gets better. and in all honesty, hope it never happens to me. i know that sounds bad, but what the fuck... am i supposed to hope i need to take anti-depressants one day to get through the day? i don't want that and i can't imagine that people who are depressed would wish the depression on others.

so now i need to talk about it a little bit, because in all honesty i'm a tad freaked out. i'm wondering if we women get this way with too many kids? or if that's a cause of it? because i can imagine the hormonal imbalance that could come out of having kids and stuff. and i have one kid (and a husband who really should count as kid #2, but for some reason doesn't) and i'm kind of thinking about what if having another kid not only makes me fat, but messes me up mentally?!? what if that kid pushes me over an edge that i don't even know i'm balancing on???? so i need to know if the depression or whatever issue ails you, was already pre-existing? did more kids, life, etc just exacerbate the issue? or did it just sprout up out of nowhere? one day you were a happy little jennster sprite and the next day you weren't? i need to know. fine, i don't need to know, but i'd like too. i want to understand. help me understand.

and please know that i'm not trying to be uncompassionate at all so i truly hope it's not coming off that way. and you're under no obligation to tell me anything (obviously). but thank you in advance to all who do choose to share.

Sunday, August 03, 2008

i'm sorry everyone, but omfg. i have had it up to here (you know, the top of my head).

in the wake of blogher, i swear if i read more one more post about being popular, the popular bloggers were nice to me, the popular bloggers were mean to me, the popular bloggers hate me, the popular bloggers like me, how come she's a popular blogger and i'm not, blogging is like high school, how do you blog when you're so popular, wah wah i want to be popular, why aren't we all popular, someone please tell me how popular they think i am, etc.

shut the fuck up already.

look, if having the popular bloggers be nice to you makes you feel good, great. that's your own issue. if that's what you need to value and justify your existance in this world- have it at. i think that's fucking lame, but whatever.. it's not my life and i don't have to live it.

i'm just tired of reading SO MANY POSTS about wanting to be popular. about how the popular people were nice to them and that made them feel good, as if we're not all just fucking normal people to begin with. why wouldn't someone be nice to you? why wouldn't they say hi and talk to you? that's what people do to eachother... regardless of popularity. you know, they socialize with one another. and for the most part, they're nice to eachother.

i'm not naive enough to think that every single person who comes to read this blog will be so taken with it, they can't stop reading it. i know that this blog isn't for everyone. i'm not for everyone. the difference though? i'm perfectly okay with that. i don't need to appeal to the masses. i don't care if i don't. if someone reads this blog and they get my sense of humor and they stick around, that's awesome. but if someone reads it and they don't think i'm funny at all or they can't relate to me at all, that's fine too. i can't relate to every blog out there so i can't expect everyone to relate to mine.

the other thing- why do we all act as if we should be polly-fucking-anna on the internet all the time? do you ever stop to think how unrealistic that truly is? i mean, i certainly don't like every single person i meet offline, so why would i like every single blog i read online? in the same token, why would i like every single person i meet from online, or the blogworld, in real life? it's nothing personal, just sometimes you don't gel with certain people. doesn't make either one of you the bad guy- it's just life. no one likes 100% of the people they meet 100% of the time. at least no one human. and there's nothing wrong with that. i wish we'd all stop acting like there is. now i'm not saying we should tear eachother down and be outright mean to one another. i feel that if you don't like someone, you should simply stop reading them. but we all know that there are people out there who get off on being mean to others.. and trying to bring them down. those people exist in the real world, so why wouldn't they exist online? i guess it's just that sometimes i feel like people think that certain things shouldn't apply when it comes to blogland. certain behaviors, nastiness and meanness shouldn't have a place online. but that's unrealistic as well. because those things have a place in the real world (which is sad, but true), so of course they'd find their way here.

i don't write this blog to be popular. and if you do, i suggest you click the delete button on your blog and walk away from the computer. cause you've got it all wrong. you should probably get out more. i just want everyone to be themselves.

i want you to write because you have something to say, something to get out, or something to share. i want it to be personal and come from your heart and soul. i don't want to read what you think other people want to hear. i don't want to read what you think will give you links on popular bloggers blogs and expose you to more people. i don't want to read what you don't believe, but you think sounds good. i just want to read what's real. you know?

last thing. if you think i'm talking about you, i can assure you i'm not. read that sentence and then read it again because i am not singling any specific person out here, i promise you. but if you do think i'm talking about you, you should ask yourself why.

Friday, August 01, 2008

thank you so much for LOCKING MY BLOG and telling me that MY BLOG IS SPAM!! thank you for also telling me that i do request a review for unlocking my blog IT WILL BE DELETED!!! there's nothing more you could do to potentially freak me the fuck out then by saying you're going to delete my entire blog. don't make me come over there and fuck a bitch up. cause i will.

you suck! and i don't mean in the good way that gets guys all excited to come home at night. i mean in the foulest of ways of all things suckiness. you hold the gold medal. wear it proudly.

please tell me, oh wise spambots (who obviously can't tell spam from grade a meat) what the fuck in this blog led you to believe it was spam?!!??!! i mean, seriously. the fact that i'm writing this post right now and it has a huge red WARNING issue above it and one of those stupid fucking word verification things below it (that i can't even read the letters cause they don't spell words, they just spell stupid things. and i hate them. yes, even yours if you have one on your blog) just so i can SAVE this post. not publish it of course. cause well, then i'd be publishing more spam! and omg, did you even take 2 seconds to read this fucking blog?!?! of course you didn't. cause then you'd know that there is no way that posts about cotton candy cooters and how incestuous me and my friends are, are spam!!!! ugh.

have i told you how much you suck yet? oh yeah, the gold medal. still wearing it? good. ugh. never have i been more annoyed. well never more than i can remember right now, although i'm sure there have been plenty of things and times that were more annoying.... but for all purposes of this here blog- let's say i have never been more annoyed than i am right now! got it?!?!?!

if you're reading this post, the shit is unlocked. finally. blogger- suck it!